


Going Wild Child

by allouette



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allouette/pseuds/allouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So out of all the people you could be spending a Friday night with, why'd you pick me?” </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Dude, it's not like I'm one of your best friends or anything.” The <i>anymore</i> is left unspoken, but it’s hanging in the air between them like a heavy weight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Wild Child

**Author's Note:**

> This thing right here, man. First of all, [go listen](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHwpX-zpPdQ) to Keith Urban's song Cop Car and you'll understand where a big part of this came from. I'm obsessed with it.

Eight months - 240 days, 3 hours, 41 minutes, and 28 seconds until graduation to be specific, not that Adam is counting. 

_27… 26… 25…_ He literally cannot wait to be done with this place.

Growing up, he never thought he could resent being stuck somewhere like he does now; he chalks it up to being young and not knowing any fucking better, that when your friends grow up and change and leave you in the dust, resentment is to be expected.

Not that he’s still bitter about it. 

Sitting in Principal Burnett’s office, he doesn’t have much else to do besides count down the seconds. _14… 13… 12…_ He could probably pay attention to what Burnett is saying to him, there is the slightest chance that it might be important, but there’s also a chance that he’ll just be sitting in this same chair again, hearing the exact same things by the end of the week, so he can just pick up what he’s missed then. That’s what he thinks anyway, until fingers are snapping in front of his face and his daze is completely broken.

“ _Adam_. I’m starting to think you have no desire to make it to graduation at the rate you’re going. Would you agree with me?”

Yes and no. He absolutely wants to graduate and get out of this hellhole; he just doesn’t want to do the work required to make it there. “I do want to graduate, sir.”

“You could have fooled me, and a lot of your teachers as well. The line has been drawn on your habit of cutting classes and showing up whenever you feel like it. This is it, Adam. No more. If it gets reported to me that you’ve missed classes, you won’t be allowed to make up any of the work that you’ve missed and it will be an automatic suspension after the first offense. After the second offense, you _will_ be expelled.”

“Wait, let me get this straight – you’re keeping me from going to class now to give me a lecture about being late and skipping classes? Seems a little counterproductive, don’t you think?” Adam asks because he can’t help himself or his mouth.

The look Adam gets in return lets him know he needs to start learning how and fast. Principal Burnett sits up straight in his chair and folds his hands together on top of his desk. There’s nothing happy about the smile he gives Adam before he speaks again. “We could skip these formalities all together and go straight to expulsion if that would suit you better?”

Adam sinks down in his seat, sighing softly. “No, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Are we on the same page now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I hope I won’t have to see you in this office again any time soon.”

Adam takes that as his cue to leave and grabs his bag from the floor, dashing from the office before another word can be spoken. The halls are deserted as he makes his way to class, and although he had just made a very serious promise not to cut anymore, he’s in no hurry to get there now. He can’t help but think about how different his life might be right now if his family hadn’t moved across the country when he was a kid to Hickville, U.S.A. He thinks about it all the time: going to high school in L.A., all the friends he could have had, how popular he might have been out there, how he might have dared to be different and start a rock band. It’s stupid to wonder about, he knows, because this is his reality; this is where he’s trapped and it isn’t going to change any time soon.

When he finally makes it to class, there’s only twenty minutes left and any hope of being able to focus is shot. He tries his best to ignore everyone around him as he takes his seat, but it’s difficult when the person sitting in front of him is a freaking giant and turns around to slide a sheet of paper onto his desk.

“What’s this?”

“Reading assignment for the weekend,” Blake says.

Adam rolls his eyes and folds up the sheet of paper without even looking at it, shoving it haphazardly into his bag. The last thing he needs is the help of Blake Fucking Shelton. The whole reason he’s in this mess, in this All-American piece of hell all on his own, is partly down to the jerk sitting in front of him.

Nope, not bitter at all.

He and Blake exchange a look, Adam’s eyebrows raised, the silent _and?_ spoken clearly enough by that one look alone. Blake just shakes his head a little before he turns back around to face forward.

240 days, 3 hours, 30 minutes, and 36 seconds… 35… 34…

*** 

When he decides to actually stay on campus, it’s common practice for Adam to spend his lunch period under the bleachers by the football field. Occasionally his buddy James will join him, but most of the time, it’s just him and his iPod, and he prefers it that way. He doesn’t have to deal with any of his asshole classmates or teachers; even during football season if members of the team are using the extra time on the field, no one sees him hiding out under there. Over the last few years, Adam has made an art form out of being invisible when he wants to be. 

He has his music turned up too loud, can’t hear the approaching footsteps, so he doesn’t realize he isn’t alone this time until a shadow falls across his field of vision. He’s quick to jump up, afraid he’s getting busted for smoking on school grounds again, but when he sees who it is, he lets out a sigh and pulls one of the buds from his ear.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, putting his iPod on pause.

Blake ducks under one of the beams and shrugs. “Hidin’, same as you. That shit’ll kill you, you know.”

Adam rolls his eyes and drops the half smoked cigarette on the ground, smashing it with the toe of his shoe. “Out of all the places you could’ve picked to hide, you came out here? What the hell do _you_ have to hide from, anyway?”

“You hate bein’ around me that much?” Blake asks as he sits down, ignoring the question. He’s about to lean back against one of the posts but decides against it; he’s wearing his football jersey since it’s game day and knows better than to get it dirty before game time. Rules are rules, regardless of how stupid they might be.

Letting out another sigh when he realizes Blake is obviously here to stay, Adam sits back down and crosses his arms over his chest. “No, I just don’t get why you’re out here instead of with your crowd.”

“Ran’s hounding me about Homecoming and she won’t stop,” Blake says, picking at the grass by his feet. 

“So?”

“So. I haven’t asked her to go with me yet, even though it’s like, expected of me, I guess. Everyone’s just waitin’ on it to happen.”

“Wow. Your life is so fucking hard, man,” Adam says, not even trying to put a lid on the level of sarcasm that pours out of his mouth.

Blake just takes it, though, with an eye roll of his own. “I wouldn’t really expect you to understand. I mean, not anymore. Though I think if you’d just get the stick outta your ass and hang out with me, you’d see I’m not really all that different than I used to be.”

“Right. Clearly you’re exactly the same person.”

“Would you give me a chance to prove it to you? Seriously.”

Adam huffs out an annoyed breath because he really hates it when Blake looks at him like that, thinks it’s not fair that a human being should be allowed to have the equivalent of puppy dog eyes. Blake fucking sucks. “What are you asking me to do, exactly? Other than listen to you bitch.”

“Just,” Blake lets out a breath, either from relief or frustration at Adam’s attitude. “Come hang out with me. Tonight, after the game, we’ll go somewhere, just the two of us. We’ll catch up.”

Adam thinks about it for a minute or two. It doesn’t sound like the worst idea in the world, although it has been a long time since he and Blake have done anything besides act civil to each other in the classroom. There’s a big difference between actually hanging out and simply acknowledging someone’s existence, though. And if he has to listen to Blake go on and on about his dating woes all night, he might have to deck him, which might actually feel pretty damn good now that he thinks about it. He finally nods, agrees with a spoken, “fine,” and Blake is all dimpled smiles sitting across from him. 

That is until they both hear, “Hey, Shelton!” called in their direction. Adam doesn’t even bother to look, but Blake hangs his head for a moment before slowly pushing himself up to stand. “I’ll pick you up,” he says, wiping the dirt from the butt of his jeans. “Don’t even think about trying to bail on me.”

“Whatever,” Adam replies mostly to himself as Blake jogs away.

*** 

They take Blake's truck because ever since he got the thing over the summer, he insists on driving everywhere, no exceptions. It's big and loud, truly obnoxious in Adam's opinion so it fits Blake perfectly. He won't admit that he does kind of like it though, with the wide bench seat and the radio on blast, the way it smells like Blake inside - his soap and cinnamon gum and the air fresher hanging from the mirror that Adam swears smells just like freshly cut grass instead of pine. And at the same time, Adam realizes he has spent entirely too long sitting behind Blake in too many classes if he has such a firm grasp on what Blake smells like.

Blake drives straight past the sign that says _No Trespassing_ but only after Adam insists that it's fine, he comes out here all the time and no one ever bothers him. (“Just like under the bleachers?” “Shut up.”) They turn off the road and pull up behind a line of trees to park before climbing out. Blake grabs the six-pack he scored after the game and pops the tailgate, the both of them hopping up to sit on either side. The lights of the airport are shining off in the distance, and when the next plane takes off, it flies right in their direction, then up and away over their heads. Adam makes Blake admit out loud that he was right, it is pretty awesome now that he’s seen it for himself.

“So out of all the people you could be spending a Friday night with, why'd you pick me?” Adam asks as he takes the bottle of beer offered to him, twisting off the cap under the hem of his shirt. He hasn’t forgotten that they’re supposed to be ‘catching up’, still thinks the question bears asking.

Blake just looks over at him. “Why not?”

“Dude, it's not like I'm one of your best friends or anything.” The _anymore_ is left unspoken, but it’s hanging in the air between them like a heavy weight.

Blake shrugs, taking a drink from his bottle. “So what? How long have we known each other?”

Adam sits on that question for a few moments, takes a couple of drinks while he thinks about how he wants to answer. It's true that he and Blake have known each other for years, have lived a few houses down from each other since Adam moved in before they started kindergarten; they used to play Ninja Turtles together and ride bikes through mud puddles, spent countless nights camped out in Blake’s backyard in a big green tent and snuck into each other’s bedroom windows when they were grounded because they couldn’t stand to be separated for longer than a full day. But time changes people. They aren’t those two little kids anymore.

“Yeah, we've known each other a long time, but that doesn't mean you still know me, or that I still know you.”

“That doesn’t mean I ever stopped wanting to know you, Adam. You’re the one that pushed me away, remember?”

Adam scoffs at that, focuses on the beer in his hand and the lights in the distance because he doesn’t know what to say. He can’t call Blake a liar here, either, though he thinks it’s more a matter of self-preservation than anything else. Because once they got to high school, Blake tried out for the football team and made it and suddenly he had all of these jock friends, cheerleaders following him around, and Adam watched it happen from the sidelines. He’s not that kind of guy, he didn’t want to be a part of that world, knew he never could be, but it was easy for him to see how well Blake fit in with those kids. Blake is just one of those people that everyone instantly loves, always has been. Football, practices and games, hanging out with his teammates, took up a lot of his time but regardless of that, he still tried to make time for Adam. He _knows_ Blake tried, but that doesn’t mean he was very cooperative because there was Blake, the rising star athlete with so much potential, and Adam, the weird kid with ADHD that really had no desire to fit into one specific group or category of people. So he blew Blake off almost every single time out of bitterness and teenage angst, and by the time summer came after their freshman year, they were practically strangers. 

Eventually Adam sniffs and sets the mostly empty bottle aside; it’s cheap, lukewarm and gross. He can’t drink that shit. “Maybe I was dumping you before you had the chance to do it to me. Did you ever think about that?”

The silence had lingered for so long that Blake is a little startled when Adam speaks again, his head whipping around to look at him. “What the hell, man? I wouldn’t do that to you. You were my best friend for like, how many years? I wouldn’t, I _couldn’t_ just-- You really thought that?”

“It might not have been something you’d do intentionally, but it would have happened eventually. You can’t be a jock and date cheerleaders and still be friends with a guy like me, Blake,” Adam says, keeping his gaze out toward the airport and the lights, watching as another plane begins to take off. “I know you like to have this perfect little view of the world or whatever, but that’s not the way it works. High school fucking sucks that way. There’s nothing perfect about that shit hole. And on top of all that, I couldn’t have handled losing you that way, so I did what I had to do.”

All Blake can do is stare at Adam for a few long moments, confusion, hurt, maybe a little bit of guilt written all over his face. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve, shown his emotions plain as day. “Adam... I play football because I suck at school in general and if I have to be stuck there, I might as well get to do something I’m good at, not because I like being one of those people. I don’t want… I’d pick you over any of them any day. I always would have. I wish you knew that, I wish we could have _talked_ about this. Fuck. And I don’t date cheerleaders.”

Adam snorts, rolling his eyes as he digs the pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket. “Right. Sure you don’t,” he mutters, focusing on the only part of what Blake said that he can stand to at the moment.

“That shit’s gonna kill you.”

“So I’ve heard,” Adam sighs, letting the crumpled pack fall down onto the truck bed somewhere between them.

The silence returns, and Adam can feel Blake watching him. He wants to ask him what, why, wants to ask him so many things, and he’s about to speak again when Blake says, “hey listen--,” but whatever he’s about to say ends up lost when they see flashing blue lights heading in their direction through the trees.

“Oh, holy shit!” Adam hops down from the tailgate, dragging his hands roughly through his hair because he is so thoroughly fucked.

“I thought you said no one ever bothers you out here!”

“Never have before! It’s probably because of your big, stupid ass truck! God _damn_ it. I have three strikes, Blake, I can’t get arrested,” Adam panics.

“Just stay calm, all right? Maybe they’ll just tell us to leave and we’ll be fine,” Blake says as the cop car pulls into view, stopping off to the side.

They watch as the two cops climb out, the driver and his partner, because obviously it takes two adult officers to handle a couple of teenagers. As they walk up, Blake puts himself between them and Adam, taking a deep breath to help calm his nerves.

“Evening, boys,” one of the officers says, then promptly turns on a flashlight, shining it in their direction.

Blake squints a little as the light hits his face but he nods his head, trying his best not to fidget. Adam stays silent behind him. “Officers.”

“Can I see your license and registration?”

Blake walks around to the front of the truck to get out his registration card and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket for his driver’s license. He passes both over as the same cop asks, “Did you happen to see the No Trespassing sign back at the road?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You just chose to ignore it?”

“It was my decision, sir. I’ve been out here before, it’s a nice spot to clear my head after games and I just never really thought about it. I apologize.”

He can see them eyeing the beer in the back of the truck, and he feels his heart sink. 

“And you’re aware neither of you are of legal age to be drinking? Were you planning on drinking and driving tonight?”

“The beer is mine,” Blake says without missing a beat. “Adam had nothing to do with it, he didn’t even know I brought it with us. As for the drinking and driving part, I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“I’m going to need you boys to turn around, face the side of the truck, hands behind your back.”

They do as they’re told without saying a word. Adam can feel Blake’s eyes on him again, and he risks a quick glance over; Blake’s eyes are wide and determined, the blue lights from the cop car making them shine wildly, and Adam almost smiles. They’re both cuffed and walked over to the car, Blake shoved into one side, Adam on the other. One of the cops disappears for a moment, only to return holding up Adam’s pack of cigarettes. He opens his mouth to speak before Blake cuts him off.

“Those are mine. Drove all the way out here without a bringin’ a lighter. You wouldn’t happen to have one, would you?”

Adam snorts softly just as the door gets slammed in Blake’s face, and then they’re left alone; the backseat isn’t very roomy, and with Blake as big as he is, they’re pressed in pretty close.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Adam asks. “I mean, seriously, are you _trying_ to get arrested?”

“I’m tryin’ to keep you outta trouble,” Blake replies. “What do you have three strikes for, anyway?”

“Stupid shit. One for fighting, which I don’t think is fair when I’m the one that got jumped in the first fucking place and it’s called self defense, but apparently that concept is lost on this fine police department,” Adam begins to explain. “And then one time I got high and fell asleep in the skate park, and I guess they could smell it on my clothes but I didn’t actually have anything on me, so they couldn’t arrest me for possession. That really pissed them off. And then I got a lousy speeding ticket, going 43 in a 40. They pulled me over, searched my whole car for almost an hour, it was embarrassing and unnecessary and so much like harassment. They pull me over all the time now for no reason, and - why the fuck are you laughing?!”

Blake’s head is ducked and his shoulders are shaking, and Adam can tell he’s trying to hold it in, he really is, but he finally lets go and laughs out loud. “I’m sorry, I’m just. You got high and _fell asleep_? In the _park_?”

“Fuck you, man. It was good shit, okay, and I didn’t know my dick of a friend was going to just leave me there.”

That doesn’t help at all, it only makes Blake laugh harder, and if Adam had the ability to punch him at the moment, he probably would. Although he knows how stupid it sounds when he says it out loud, and hearing the sound of Blake’s laughter, how contagious it is, makes Adam want to laugh, too. He lets himself break and they laugh together, leaning on each other until there are tears in their eyes, an ache beginning to form in their sides. 

It takes them a minute to calm back down after that, and they both sigh as the giddiness slowly drains away, trying to look out the windows at the officers standing together off in the distance.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Blake asks.

“Who the hell knows? They’re taking their ever loving sweet time, though,” Adam answers, trying to roll his shoulders a little. God, handcuffs suck. 

“We should’ve made a run for it,” Blake comments out of nowhere, and Adam just looks at him like he’s suddenly grown a second head. “What? We could’ve made a mad dash to the woods at the first sign of the lights, hidden somewhere. There’s a chance they wouldn’t have found us.”

“You’re crazy as hell, what’s the matter with you?”

Blake laughs again, shrugging as best he can. “Would’ve been an awesome story to tell, anyway. You know, that time we ran from the cops and got away. Who wouldn’t want a story like that?”

“Me! I don’t want any more stories involving cops! Stop acting like you’re having fun right now!”

The smile slowly fades from Blake’s face as he looks at Adam, seriousness taking over again. “I’m going to do whatever I can to get you outta this, I promise.”

Adam can only look at Blake then - bright blue eyes, hair curling out from under his backward cap, the hint of dimples in his cheeks; he can still see the kid he was best friends with in that face, but there’s so much more there, now. Maturity, determination, an underlying innocence that Adam doesn’t think will ever go away. He doesn’t really understand where Blake’s fierce loyalty comes from, why he thinks Adam even deserves it because Adam wouldn’t blame him at all if Blake let him take the fall for this whole thing. He knows he would probably deserve it.

There’s a sudden sting in Adam’s eyes and he blinks rapidly, takes a couple of deep breaths, looking away to help calm himself down. “Thank you,” he says softly, pausing for a moment and then, “I’ve missed you. I really have.”

Blake practically beams, which looks ridiculous considering their situation, and shifts just a little bit closer. “I’ve missed you, too.”

They sit quietly after that, pressed together side by side as the minutes slowly tick by. It’s oddly comfortable, despite the fact that they’re both handcuffed in the backseat of a police car, and Adam knows it has everything to do with the fact that he’s sitting next to Blake because no one else would ever have the power to make him feel this way; he has been Adam’s rock since the day Adam moved to this shitty town. Blake looks over and catches Adam watching him, but Adam doesn’t care. He almost feels like they never spent any time apart, like they’ve been friends the whole time, even though they still have a lot of catching up to do. But now he thinks that might not be so bad.

“Hey, do you think you could do me a favor?” Blake asks.

“What? Wait, they’re coming back.”

They fall silent again, both ducking their heads, and when their doors are pulled open, neither of them move until a hand reaches in for each of them and one of the cops says, “all right, boys, come on out.”

They climb out of the car, eyes on the ground. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ve decided to let you both go with a warning. If you can pass some tests to our satisfaction, you can drive out of here right now and we won’t escort you home,” the officer says as the handcuffs are removed. “Just know that we don’t want to find either of you out here again because next time, you won’t get this lucky.”

Adam could almost collapse at the relief he feels knowing he’s not getting carted off to jail tonight, and he feels like Blake just saved his life somehow. They both pass their sobriety tests easily since neither of them drank a whole beer, and the cops confiscate what was left without argument. Once they’re given the okay, they climb into Blake’s truck to leave. Adam doesn’t even realize it until he’s pulling his seatbelt on, but as he tries to click it into place, he sees the tremble in his hands. 

As soon as they’re back on the road, Blake reaches over, gives one of his hands a tight squeeze; Adam’s heart clenches at that moment as Blake’s hand lingers on his before sliding away, heat radiating under his skin in the wake of that simple touch, and Adam just knows that after tonight, nothing is going to be the same.

***

It's well after 1 a.m. and Blake is still wide-awake. He hasn’t been able to calm down since he got home a couple of hours ago, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, his mind racing. He can’t stop thinking about Adam, doesn’t really want to, and he catches himself smiling in the dark every so often.

Despite having spent a portion of the night handcuffed, he can honestly say he hasn’t been this happy in a long time. He can’t put into words how much he has missed Adam, just being able to simply talk to him, to call him a friend; Blake would swear on his life that not a day has gone by where he didn’t wish they could be friends again. Even though Adam was rather quiet on the drive home tonight, Blake thinks they left things on pretty good terms when he dropped him off. There were no smartass remarks thrown at him, anyway, and that’s usually a good sign most of the time. 

Blake is sure they can get their friendship back, that they can do this easily; he wants it now more than ever because just being with Adam for that short time was enough to remind him how perfect things feel when they’re around each other. Everything just clicks, it makes sense, and it feels right. It has always been that way, and Blake has never been able to explain it, but it’s what made them inseparable as kids.

He’s just glancing at the clock on his bedside table, sees that it’s getting close to 2 a.m. now when he hears the faint tapping on his window. He turns on a lamp next to his bed before getting up and crossing the room; as soon as the window is open enough, Adam climbs through. He’s dressed down in plain cotton pants and a t-shirt like he just rolled out of bed, untied shoes flopping on his feet.

“Were you asleep?” he asks quietly and Blake shakes his head no. “Yeah, I couldn't sleep, either. There's just... Christ, could you put a fucking shirt on? I can't talk to you when you're like...” Adam says, flapping a hand in Blake's direction.

Blake just blinks for a moment, then scoops his shirt up from off of the floor and pulls it on over his head. “You know it's been over three years since you've climbed in my window?”

Adam is pacing around the room, biting anxiously at his thumbnail. “I know,” he replies, idly noting how plain Blake's room looks now from the way he remembers it, but he can't really think about that now. Not when there are more important things on his mind. “Okay,” he says like he’s made up his mind, finally stopping right in front of Blake. “I give you my explicit permission to punch me in the face after I do this, but I just. I have to know.”

“Know what?”

“This,” Adam says, then closes the distance between them, pressing their mouths together.

Blake is completely frozen for the first few seconds, totally unresponsive, and Adam is about to pull away, but then all of a sudden Blake is kissing him back like a switch has been flipped. He makes this _noise_ in the back of his throat and grips the back of Adam's t-shirt, and Adam gets a hand in those stupid curls - it's not his first kiss by a long shot but it quickly becomes the best kiss he's ever had, blows every other kiss out of the water as soon as Blake opens up to him. He wants to draw it out, make it last as long as possible, but the fact that Blake even kissed him back at all is a shock and he’s afraid of pushing too far, too fast, so settling for a taste will have to do for now.

“Wasn't expecting that,” Adam says softly when he finally eases back, licks his lips. “But I'll take it.”

Blake swallows hard and brings his fingers up to his mouth; his lips are kissed red, the bottom one still tingling from the scrape of Adam's teeth. “Why did you...”

“I told you. I had to know.”

“You had to know what?”

“If there was a chance you might be feeling the same way I am.”

“Oh.”

Blake runs his tongue along his lower lip; he can’t say for sure that he’s ever really thought about Adam like this before, but now. _Now._ He can’t stop himself from pulling Adam into another kiss, slow and sweet, getting the feel for new territory, and Adam actually whimpers. Blake didn’t know it could be like this, kissing someone. It’s always been kinda clumsy, fumbling, awkward at best every other time he’s done it, and he can’t remember one that he’s ever been _really_ into, but Adam is so different. He doesn’t really understand how or why kissing Adam is so easy, why he’s not freaking out right now, he just knows he’s not. He also knows that things with Adam have always been different. 

“Okay,” Blake gasps, the first one to break away this time, putting a little bit of distance between them. “This is a little new.”

“Do you want me to apologize?” Adam asks, because he will if Blake wants him to, whether he really means it or not.

“No! No, just. Fuck.”

Sinking down to sit on the bed, Blake drags a hand through his hair, scrubs it over his face. Adam moves to sit down next to him, not too close, just in case. Blake shakes his head a little, and Adam hears the soft laugh he lets out before he looks over. “What a night, huh?”

“Yeah. You can say that again.”

They end up stretched out on Blake’s bed, talking in hushed voices in the dark after the light is turned off. Adam doesn’t want to leave, and Blake doesn’t want to tell him to go, even when their speech gets slower, words get harder to think of, as their eyelids grow heavier. 

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“What was that favor you were gonna ask me?” Adam asks, suddenly remembering what Blake had started to say back in the cop car.

“Oh. I was going to ask you to start comin’ to class. We have four together and I hardly ever see you. You’re too smart not to graduate, hell of a lot smarter than me, I’ve seen the grades you get when you’re actually there.”

“Why does it matter?”

“I want you to walk across that stage with me at the end of the year so we can both get the hell out of here. You probably don’t know this, but I’m not playin’ football anymore after this year. I didn’t try to get any scholarships. Pissed my dad the hell off, but I don’t want that to be the only thing I am, all that I can do. We used to always talk about it, remember? Bustin’ outta this town, you and me, doin’ whatever the hell we want.”

Adam smiles faintly to himself in the dark because yeah, he remembers. He remembers everything. And the sound of it now, back here in this room with Blake, is like music to his ears. “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

Neither of them remember falling asleep; one minute they’re talking and the next, they’re both out, then all of a sudden Blake is being jerked awake by a loud knock on his bedroom door and his mom’s voice filtering through from the other side.

“Blake, your father and I are going out for a little while. There’s food on the stove, don’t sleep all day!” 

“’Kay!” he calls back, still sleep confused and not even entirely sure what she said, exactly. 

What he does know is Adam is lying next to him, his arm thrown across Blake’s chest, one of his legs tangled between Blake’s own, and even though he’s awake, he’s frozen in place by awkward morning reactions beyond either of their control. Blake feels his face burn hot and closes his eyes, tries to make his own go away by the sheer force of his will alone; when he shifts just a little against the bed, Adam hisses softly next to him at the inadvertent contact and presses his face against Blake’s shoulder, fighting the urge to make it happen again.

And suddenly they find themselves faced with two options here: deal with the problem at hand, or awkwardly get up, move away, and chalk it up to uncontrollable teenage hormones, ignoring it completely. Blake’s heart is pounding hard in his chest and nothing has even happened yet, and when Adam finally, slowly lifts his head to look up at him, the decision has been made. It's really that simple. He gets an arm around Adam's body and pulls him closer, Adam moving with him until he's covering Blake's body with his own.

It all happens very quickly after that, their hips rocking together as they clutch at each other, fingers digging in through the thin cotton of their t-shirts. This is a first for the both of them, but they're running with it, going with what feels natural, Adam grinding down as Blake rocks up and when they actually get it to work, when they meet just right, it feels _phenomenal_. 

Adam braces his hands against the bed for leverage, for something to hold onto so he doesn’t shove his hand straight down Blake’s shorts, while Blake grips his hips so tight, Adam is sure he’s going to have bruises. The sound of rough, harsh breathing fills the room as the pace gradually picks up speed, and it isn't until Blake gets a hand on Adam's ass and thrusts up hard, his free hand curling the pillow around to cover his mouth, that Adam whites out with one last hard thrust of his own. 

They lay in a panting, sweaty heap afterward and it's almost tempting to go back to sleep if not for the mess. Neither of them makes an attempt to move for another minute or two until Adam is slow to roll off of Blake, grimacing at the front of his pants.

“Fuck, I have to walk home like this,” he bitches, and Blake just laughs.

“I think I have a box of clothes that don't fit me anymore in my closet, I'll see what's in there.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ve always dreamed of the day I’d get to wear your hand-me-downs.”

Blake pushes himself up with a groan and Adam snickers at the awkward way he walks across the room. He grabs a clean pair of gym shorts from his dresser before he leaves for the bathroom to clean up, throwing his dirty, balled up shorts into the corner of the room when he comes back in. Adam is still sprawled out on the bed as Blake digs through the box in his closet, finding a pair of old sweat pants, tossing them over for Adam to go change into.

Adam has the waistband of the pants doubled over, the legs rolled up and they're still hanging low on his hips when he comes back in from the bathroom a couple of minutes later. “I look ridiculous,” he says, pulling his shirt back on.

“Better than nothing? At least you don't have to go far.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot.”

“Hey,” Blake says and steps up close, leans in to press a kiss to Adam's lips. He wants to ask, _‘how is this not weird? How is this not awkward?’_ but kissing seems like such a better idea, so he goes with that instead. They both smile because they had the exact same thought while they were in the bathroom: mouthwash.

“I better go before someone realizes I'm not there,” Adam says with a sigh and shoves his feet into his shoes, heading toward the window.

“Dude, no one's here. You can use the front door.”

Adam flashes a grin as he straddles the windowsill. “Where's the fun in that? I'll see you.”

*** 

Blake doesn't see Adam the rest of the weekend, and he figures this is it, this is where the weird and awkward come in; he knows things happened fast - _way too fast_ \- but he thought they were okay when Adam left, so Blake really can't help being anxious sitting in class first thing Monday morning. He definitely isn't expecting to look up and see Adam walking through the door five minutes early. Adam is _never_ early to class, is hardly ever on time when he bothers to show up at all, so to see him strolling in before the bell rings dressed in his dumb tight jeans and a dorky sweater, his glasses on that Blake hasn't seen in a long time, is some kind of miracle. 

He drops his books down onto the desk as he slides into his seat behind Blake, slapping a hand down on Blake's shoulder as he leans in close.

“If I get bored and start drawing dicks on the back of your neck, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Blake doesn't even try to stop the grin that breaks out on his face; he's pretty sure he would be perfectly okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> So this whole thing started off as a one shot to satisfy my obsession with that song but then I got sucked into the 'verse because they wouldn't leave me alone. And then Sandra gave me the idea of turning it into a multi-chaptered monster, which I've never done before and hello scary. I started to, I really did. I've been working hard on it. But shit happens, I guess, and that idea has been axed for now. Maybe I'll revisit this somewhere down the road, post a sequel or something because I still have a couple of ideas that I'm sad to let go of (like the boys being Marvel nerds because I timelined that bitch perfectly excuse me WHILE I WEEP (also steal that idea and I will end you)) but I guess we'll see.
> 
> ANYWAY, thanks as always to Sandra for the beta and hand-holding and Bubbles for general cheerleading.


End file.
